I slip into a Dior belted black dress, elegant yet appropriate for a business meeting. It doesn’t take long for three slow taps to echo through my hotel apartment, telling me Dwayne is here.
He nods in greeting and follows me to the elevator, escorting me to the business meeting room in the fancy Dallas hotel, where he’ll remain outside in the hall for the duration of the meeting.
Coach Mathews is already at the head of the long table,his notes strewn across it. The game against Dallas is almost a guaranteed win, but when playing at the opposition’s arena, nothing is a certainty.
“Afternoon, Charlotte,” he greets but doesn’t look up from the table. “I just heard Simpson is out. Strained his back at this morning’s training session.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Who do you have to replace him?”
“No guards. Byron will play full minutes, and River will need to step up.”
River.
I lower into the chair behind the long table. “Is he up to playing more?” Coach Mathews rotates the rookies and new players until they have the confidence to make shots under pressure. River doesn’t have the game endurance Simpson has. It’s a risk since fatigue is a precursor to injury.
“We don’t have a choice. I’ll play Vince as a backup and rotate from a guard to a forward.” He glances up from his iPad, and his brow furrows, lines deepening across his forehead. He straightens when the door opens, and Glen, the LA Sharks assistant coach, enters the room. Behind him is the trainer and strength and conditioning coach. “Gentlemen,” Coach Mathews greets, looking directly at the trainers. “Any news on Simpson?”
“No, Coach,” Joseph, the head trainer, replies as they all sit at the table. “He is having scans as we speak.”
Walter strides into the room and gives Coach Mathews a nod. “Afternoon, Coach.” He’s in his late sixties, carrying himself with the confidence of someone who equates age with wisdom and authority. But to me, he’s outdated, and I can’t help but question the advice he offers our coaches.
“Walter, before we begin discussions about the game plan, I want to bring everyone up to speed with your and Lex’s insights.”
I keep my gaze on Coach Mathews. I do not want to appear rattled about the prospect of a new player since Lex is our head scout. “Should this discussion wait until we’re back in LA when Franklin and Jobe are present?” Franklin is president of basketball operations, and Jobe is vice president, who is privy to potential changes to the team roster.
“We’re taking a lead advantage,” Coach adds quickly. “Chicago Stingers are interested in Vince.”
“The Stingers?” I snap. “Do they want all our players?”
“It’s likely.” Walter grins at me. “We have a great team.”
“Hear, hear,” the other men sound out.
“I’m not disagreeing. When were you expecting a trade to happen? Is Vince a certainty?”
“Early January. And no.”
I stare at Coach. “Does Vince know?”
“No.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake,I mouth. The news leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
“We need someone like Brandon Johns on the team,” Walter adds.
I choke on my mouthful of water. “We already do. Byron is our man.”
“We all agree Byron is the best guard in the team and one of the top ten guards in the league. But BJ and Byron combine well together, and we all know he is a perfect fit.”
“Who walked out on the team,” I say incredulously. “He demanded to be traded. He hurt our guys. Broke their trust. And you want to bring him back and mess with their mindset and team dynamics?” I force out a sarcastic laugh.
Over my dead body.
“We are not discussing trades today. You can wait until we’re home, and I’ll call a board meeting.”
Walter stares at me as though I’m clueless.
I stare right back and cock one eyebrow. “Does anyone have a problem with my call?” I meet everyone’s gaze to ensure they understand my intention. “Good. Let’s move on to the gameplan and how we are going to come away with the win when we don’t have Simpson on the court.”
